


Leela

by upriserseven



Category: Good Wife (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upriserseven/pseuds/upriserseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What ran through Alicia's head after hearing that one word, "Leela"?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leela

**Author's Note:**

> written immediately post 2x20, as some way of dealing with my feelings RE: Julianna's face in that last scene.

You're fine. You can sit, happily alone, enjoying the sounds of the party outside. You sip your wine, a sense of pride at declaring on television that your life is okay. It makes it feel real, for once. You can take a step back and a deep breath, and you're close to laughing at how the ups and downs of this past year.

And then here he is again. This... this man who's quickly become the bane of your existence,

"I couldn't get a hold of you, I've been trying your cell." Take a hint, buddy. After an initial moment of shock, you settle on informing him he's being ignored, and trying to get him to leave. Trying politely. You do, however, take note of the "it's not bad news" that he offers you, and something inside you lets out a breath you didn't realise you were holding.

"It was a rumour your husband slept with one of his co-workers two years ago." Your mind flashes back to the phone call with Eli's journalist. Didn't she say this same thing to you? A co-worker. No. You block it out. He didn't... didn't he swear that she was it? That it was just the hooker? That she was the only one? You take a deep breath, deeper than you initially planned, and you put your wine down, when really you just need to take another sip. Would a sip even be enough? You look at him, laughing it off, when your insides are twisting.

Cryptic. How incredibly cryptic. You really do think the truth is better, helping or hurting aside. You expected yourself to answer differently. You thought that after the past year, you wouldn't want to know. At least that's what you told yourself. Deep down, you knew it wasn't true, but hearing yourself say it out loud, without hesitation, shocks you. You really do. If there is another woman, another woman who can tell you your husband was unfaithful again, a woman who can honestly tell you that Peter lied, you want to know.

"There was no-one in the department with that name." You walk away, you know that now is the time. There's a 'but' here, there's something to add, you know it. So you walk away, you leave him standing behind you, desperately hoping that whatever he has to add, won't be added while you're still in the room. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't say it. Don't say anything. But he does. The one thing you weren't expecting. One name to tear your world down.

Leela.

You stop, dead in your tracks. Your heart starts to race, hoping you heard him wrong. Don't turn around. Don't say anything. Then he'll know. No matter what you do, no matter how you feel, don't let him know he's right. Don't get her in trouble. Why? Why are you still looking out for her? The possibilities flash through your mind. You start to feel sick. Something inside you is burning. Leave the room. Get away from him. Don't let him see what he's done. He doesn't deserve any pleasure from this can of worms.

Cheering. Cheering and celebrating. He's a jolly good fellow. Do you laugh or cry? You stop yourself from throwing up. Take a look at your kids, your mother-in-law, the man who has no respect for you or anything you stand for, and you walk away. Grab your coat, your bag, walk away like nothing happened. Keep your dignity, Alicia. You've managed it until now. Through the scandal, the shame, the gossiping and whispering and laughing, you've managed to keep your pride, keep your dignity.

It's cold in the hallway. Colder than you expected. It hits you, and it hurts you. It physically hurts you. Keep walking. Don't cry. Don't let this break the wall down. Not publicly. Sit in your room, your car, sit at the bar of some hotel Kalinda knows, probably a little too well, and cry into your tequila, your steering wheel, your pillow, anything. Just don't let him see you cry. Her? It wouldn't be the first time she'd seen you crying over this. You can't handle that thought. She knew. She sat and helped you through this, she gave a shoulder to cry on, she was your rock. What did she get out of it? Why? Did she ever care? Have you lost the only real friend you've had? The burning starts again. Your throat, your stomach, your eyes. You can feel yourself shaking, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself on your feet. Stand tall, Alicia. Stand tall, stay strong, stay calm. What's the saying? Keep Calm and Carry On. You've been doing it your whole life, nothing's changed.


End file.
